


Tinge

by soundlessAria



Series: Palette [2]
Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Akashi is a god, But only for a bit, Curses, M/M, One-Shot, One-Shot Collection, Rituals and Ceremony, Sacrifice!Kuroko, Supernatural - Freeform, This belongs to a series, ofc Kuroko will suffer like in all my other fics, the others are only mentioned lol, there's actually only Akashi and Kuroko in this story, there's also a bit of aftercare, this came a year and a half late, this story kind of just wrote itself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-30
Updated: 2017-05-30
Packaged: 2018-11-06 23:17:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11046399
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soundlessAria/pseuds/soundlessAria
Summary: The ritual failed and Kuroko Tetsuya was left to bear a curse for the rest of his life. But it didn't mean it was the end. After all, he wasn't alone anymore.This is the second part of a series of AkaKuro oneshots--Tinge."Until you find your way back to your own color, I don’t mind lending you mine.”





	Tinge

**Author's Note:**

> Whoops, this came, like, a year and a half late and I apologize for that. Anyway, I lost the original file for this along with all my other fics and stories––*bows head in silence and tries not to cry*––so this turned out different from the original.
> 
>  **Disclaimer:** I do not own Kuroko no Basuke. Fujimaki Tadatoshi-sensei owns it. The only thing I own is this story.
> 
>  **Warning:** Unedited

The first time Tetsuya’s consciousness returned, all he could feel was agony.

He couldn’t make up whether the mental images his mind were conjuring were real or not.

He was there, standing, right in the middle of nowhere. He was wearing unfamiliar clothes that barely covered his body. The sleeves appeared as if they had been forcibly ripped out by a hungry beast. His legs were almost exposed to the cold air of the night if it weren’t for the tattered ends of the robe he was wearing.

Around him were indistinct shapes of shadows hidden beneath the mist’s folds. The figures swayed back and forth, back and forth, their movements hypnotizing like the rusty pendulum at the village hall’s clock.

He stood not far from the shadows, and, even though barely, he could hear something coming from them. Something… something which sounded foreign to him, but, in the back of his head, he was sure he knew the language. He should.

He tried to look around him, but it felt as if he was watching everything from afar––everything seemed to happen in a distant place and he was just there waiting for the scene to unfold itself, just like when he was reading a book.

The shadows billowed with every whisper of the wind, chants in harmony with their every sway.

He stared at them in a trance, mind in awe at how beautiful it appeared with the fog’s concealment.

He watched as a flicker of light, one by one, went to life and dispersed the fog. It was all he could do: follow each movement of the light as they danced around him. It made him drowsy, lethargic, completely unable to think of anything but what was in front of him. All his mind was telling him was how much he wanted the feeling to take over, to completely embrace him.

He was about to give in when, all of a sudden, something sharp pierced him straight through his chest where he thought his heart should be. It elicited a pained gasp from him, and something wet sprayed out of his mouth as he did so.

Soon, he was falling. His knees made contact with the muddy soil, and he could feel the painful sound of his bone reverberate inside of him like an echo.

He hastily tried to pry the knife out of his chest, but when he touched the surface of his skin, he found that there weren’t any. He frowned in confusion. He could still feel the coldness of the blade pulsate inside of him. He didn’t understand what was happening. He was so close to hyperventilating and losing himself to panic.

The chanting around him became louder at every shallow breath he let out, and the torment terrifyingly only continued with that.

Soon, he felt as if he was being thrown into a fire pit, but he knew he didn’t exactly fell. He was just dangling there, from the pit’s mouth, cuffs covering his forearms and metal chains securing his arms overhead. It felt as if his wrists were being marked with the extreme temperature radiating against the metal.

All he could hear now were the voices. He couldn’t hear his own voice, his own thoughts. His throat felt parched, scratchy, and sore, and by that, he knew he had been screaming for a long time.

He couldn’t think straight as pain clouded his senses. He was being pulled from the ends of sanity to the depths of madness.

His skin was being lit up by torches. His lungs were being pierced by thousands of needles. His head was being crushed by a hammer. His joints ached. His eyes stung. His entire body burned with pain. Everything hurt and he couldn’t think straight. He was crumbling, his skin cracking like an old porcelain doll.

He couldn’t move, couldn’t open his mouth, couldn’t open his eyes, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t feel anything else, couldn’t think. There was nothing but _pain_ , _pain_ , _pain_ in every corner of his body.

He was so, so, close to losing it––to losing everything, to losing himself to the pain.

 _I don’t want it anymore, please, please, I give in, I surrender, please make it stop, I don’t want it anymore_ _––_

He let the madness being whispered to his ears take over. His eyes slowly drooped close.

In the midst of it all, in the split second that he teetered over the edge of giving in, his senses briefly returned. He felt something gentle, something warm, something familiar drape over his closed eyes. It wasn’t exactly painful, but the feeling engraved itself––burned in a good way––deep into his soul. He stifled a weak groan.

Despite the illusory haze the pain had given him, he could feel slight comfort at that almost invisible touch. And it was enough.

He felt the pull of darkness in the depths of his mind, and he was truly grateful to relinquish the pain’s tenuous hold on his consciousness.

He gave in.

* * *

_Tetsuya was young again, barely ten years of age._

_His eyes was the prettiest shade of sky blue just like his soft hair. They held warmth and fondness upon the picturesque scenery before him._

_He was sitting on the tatami floor, messy piles of books surrounding him._

_Inside this little cage of his_ _––his four-walled castle of wood––he could do everything. He marveled at the sight laid before his eyes––birds came and go, wild animals frolicked with their kind, plants danced in tune with the wind’s song. It was breath-taking. Everything happened on the other side of the barred wall of his cell, and he attentively observed them, silently smiling to himself._

_He would always wonder if the animals could see him, if they could see the state he was in. After all, he had a very low presence similar to those of the spirits of the dead he heard the elders whisper about on the corridors one time._

_Sometimes, he thought he might be one of them_ _––_ _that he didn’t actually belong in this world, which explained how he had always lived like an outcast as far as his young mind could remember._

 _Or sometimes, if it wasn’t that, he would think that he might become invisible instead. How wonderful that would be, if he could. He could escape this prison, leave this village and travel somewhere far, far, away. He could bring Kagami and Ogiwara with him. They would surely be delighted at this stupid proposition of his. He knew they would definitely agree without questions. But, right now, he had no idea where the two were, where his two_ _––his only friends were. It had been such a long time, since he last saw them. He could still remember their voices, how they looked, but even those were slowly disappearing… like him. Were they still in the village? Did they even remember him?_ _He_ _frowned at the thought._

_He was truly worried for his friends’ safety. If the village elders had known that Kagami and Ogiwara had been having conversations with him, the two would surely be thrown out of the village. Or worse, they would be branded with the traitor’s mark. He couldn’t get his mind to find the logic behind that, but it was the village’s way and nobody could stand against it nor speak a single word of defiance._

_Through the small square opening of his cell, a small bird flew in as he worried his head over his friends’ condition._

_A raven, his mind supplied._

_The bird casually landed on the book he had left open on his lap._

_He was reading it earlier, but his mind didn’t seem to process the words just like usual, so he decided to put it off for later._

_The bird pecked the edge of the pages in a playful manner._

_It was an adorable sight and he couldn’t help but let the small smile take over his lips._ _Carefully, he brought his palm to the raven’s downy feathers and, with all utmost care, petted it._

_The creature didn’t fly away. Instead, it nuzzled its face to the skin of his palm as if it were encouraging him to continue._

_It felt warm, so full of life, against his skin. He thought he could live with the feeling forever. To have someone_ _––something in this small world of his––_ _almost made him cry. He envied the bird_ _––its freedom, how it could go to different places with its fragile wings_ _._

_“Please, stay here. Don’t leave me here,” he unconsciously muttered, his soft voice quivering tearfully._

_The bird looked up at him, tilted its head as if it were observing him, and as tender as his touch, it pecked at the skin of his palm._

_He quietly laughed, because it tickled and because it was as if the bird understood him, and it was enough. He admired the red of the creature’s eyes. Somehow, he thought how much it held determination_ _––_ _that despite the raven’s life in the wilderness, it still held strong to its own and never gave up._

_The bird answered his wish and did stay for a few minutes, but that beautiful dream was soon taken apart when he heard the door to his cell open. The bird hastily flew away, out of his grasp, out of his little prison, and back to the wild, back to the freedom he couldn’t have._

_“Tetsuya-sama, the master requires for your presence,” a female voice announced from outside his cell. After that, a girl almost twice Tetsuya’s age went inside without even waiting for the Tetsuya’s reply. She was wearing the Kuroko family’s traditional servants’ outfit, and her face was covered with a thin black veil. She didn’t even dare look at Tetsuya as she unlocked the metal cuffs securing the latter’s feet._

_Tetsuya just continued watching everything that was happening outside as the girl did her work. He didn’t bother speaking, didn’t bother striking up a conversation. It was useless anyway. If he spoke, they would become fearful of his voice. If he so much as looked at them, they would think they had been cursed with his cold blue eyes. They were afraid of him, of what he was, and he didn’t understand why. He was only human. He was a human. Right? Only Kagami and Ogiwara were brave enough to approach him, despite the village elders forbidding them._

_After removing the chains, the girl unceremoniously went out of the room and waited for Tetsuya. Her head was bowed low, and all Tetsuya could think was that she didn’t want to spend another minute with him._

_Tetsuya set the book atop a pile of other books. He stood up and mechanically fixed his kimono. His legs still felt numb after sitting for quite some time, and the cold, biting feeling of the cuffs still lingered on his ankle._

_But, his grandfather called for him. His grandfather needed him right now. Somebody needed him and that was all that mattered. He didn’t look back when he left his castle of illusions._

_He was free, but he wasn’t._

* * *

The second time Tetsuya woke up, he could only barely move, but he was relieved he could. His entire body felt like it had been repeatedly set aflame and doused with water. Although, now, the pain had settled to a lesser degree. He could still feel the lingering effects of torture, but he felt much better than before.

He looked down to his body, and was horrified when he saw the labyrinthine marks of dark red covering his skin, marring them like a maze of dried blood. It appeared as if he was glowing––burning––as if his skin had been set ablaze. He had no idea how to react, since his motor functions still wouldn’t cooperate with his brain’s commands. He laid back to the bed, heaved a sigh, and attempted not to think of anything else.

The marks were definitely caused by the failed ritual, this he was sure of. Having been unable to properly perform it, he was now left with a curse he was supposed to bear for the rest of his life. And for all he knew, this very curse might be slowly eating his life away.

He wanted to cry… or was he already crying? There were no tears on his eyes. He couldn’t feel them, but his vision had started to blur, and his breath came out in uneven gasps.

He was a failure. He couldn’t even perform the role of being a rightful sacrifice.

He was useless. He wasn’t needed. He was––

“Sleep,” he heard someone say beside him, and the voice broke through his panic.

He was… What was he thinking about again?

“Sleep,” the voice said once more. It was so smooth, so silky, so comforting that it made his eyelids drop immediately.

He tried to fight the tiredness, but it was hard to win over it.

 _Who are you?_ He wanted to ask, but soon he was back to the world of dreams.

* * *

_They were dead._

_Kagami and Ogiwara were dead. The only persons keeping him from giving up were dead._

_What was he supposed to do now? He had nothing. Now, he really had nothing but the four corners of his damned castle, his books, and the view on the other side of the barred wall._

_It was all his fault. He was the reason why Kagami and Ogiwara were now_ _––_

_The village caught the three of them as they were escaping. Tetsuya could still remember the way the flame tree burned against the setting sun. He could still remember his friends screaming his name, himself screaming theirs as he was ripped away from them, as they were ripped apart from each other. He could still feel Kagami and Ogiwara’s hands grasping his tightly. But, even that was slowly disappearing._

_Slowly, slowly. Like that little bird from long ago._

_Everything was disappearing._

_The birds had whispered to his ears how Kagami and Ogiwara had been cornered to a cliff by the villagers and how they fell. They said the two of them survived the fall, but drowned as the river’s current washed them away._

_Now they were gone._

_His meetings with his grandfather and the village elders, the constant rituals, were making him empty. They were taking everything away from him_ _––_ _his mind, his senses, his own consciouness. He couldn’t even remember the way that raven’s feathers felt against his palm nor the tickle it sent him when the bird pecked his skin._

 _It was slowly dissolving into infinitesimal particles of yesterday_ _––_ _memories that would soon be gone with the wind._

_He was slowly dissolving along with that beautiful scenery from afar._

_But… if he was gone, would that mean he would finally be free?_

_Tetsuya was back in his cell, watching another sunset pass before his eyes. He just stared and stared with eyes as cold as how his skin felt, its wavering light as fragile as the pieces of an already broken glass. All he could see was blood red, the sky dyed in magnificent shades of orange, pink, and magenta. The book on his lap was long forgotten._

_They were gone._

_Gone._

_Forever._

_They were gone and it was all his fault._

_A stray tear dribbled down the corner of his eyes._

_It was the afternoon he turned thirteen when he last cried._

_He was too empty that he didn’t feel it when the mark of the sacrifice was burned to his back that night._

* * *

The third time Tetsuya woke up, his head had finally cleared up. Bit by bit, he gradually remembered everything. He stared at the ceiling of the room he was in, the intricate pattern etched on it forgotten.

A sacrifice. That was what he was. He was born to be one, cultivated to be one, but even that simple task he couldn’t do properly.

 _“You are a failure to this family! You should be thankful that you were given this reason to live, Tetsuya. Be grateful to the gods as they have whispered to the oracle of your purpose, that you have purpose. If not, then there really isn’t any reason for your existence,”_ his grandfather’s voice drilled in the deepest corners of his mind. The scalding words were a knife to Tetsuya’s chest before. Now it was a sword through his back.

It was the truth he lived by so long as he could remember.

He couldn’t even do that one thing properly. He was a failure. He wanted to laugh at himself, but his voice wouldn’t come out. It felt as if he were a mechanical doll waiting for someone to tell him what to do, as if he were a puppet waiting for someone to pull his strings. All he was taught of was to obey the will of the village as it was also the will of the gods.

His face remained blank, completely devoid of emotions. His eyes were glassy, staring into nothingness. He couldn’t cry, couldn’t even scream, couldn’t bother to do anything.

Everything was just so unreachable.

He was empty.

It was later that night when the stranger––his savior, if he could even call him that––visited his room.

From what Tetsuya could remember, this person wasn’t as normal as how he appeared to be. He was the one who saved him, the one who took the life of those who tormented him without even batting an eye. He was the one who freed him. But, even then, he still felt like a prisoner.

“How are you feeling?” The person asked, his voice cold, but Tetsuya didn’t mind the distinct timbre. This person was real, everything he showed was what he truly was, unlike Tetsuya who was a fake, a doll wearing a human’s face. He wasn’t even a person. He was a failed offering.

Tetsuya remained silent. He just stared at the pale moon, delighting himself as it waxed and waned, holding in his palm the thin ray of light which lanced through the window. It felt like those nights he spent in his cell––those sleepless nights when he was left watching the moon, tracing each constellation he could name on the air.

The stranger carefully sat on one side of the bed, his eyes never leaving Tetsuya. He was so close to Tetsuya that the latter could feel the heat radiating from his body. He didn’t even bother asking Tetsuya if he could do that. Tetsuya supposed he could. After all, it was his house and he owned everything in it. Did that also mean he owned Tetsuya now?

“I certainly do not, but if you want, I could,” the stranger answered Tetsuya’s unspoken question, amusement lacing his tone.

Tetsuya didn’t show the surprise on his face, but he decided it only right to face the person. The stranger took his breath away, and he just blinked back without actually saying anything.

They ended up staring at each other for a few moments before the stranger spoke again.

“My name is Akashi Seijuurou,” the stranger said. He didn’t add anything after that. He appeared to be waiting a few beats for Tetsuya to recognize the name.

And recognize, Tetsuya did. He blinked once, twice, his mind reeling in confirmation. “You are… him. The village’s protector, the Lord of the East, the Emperor of the Divine Skies,” he said like a wistful breath. He was in a god’s presence, and that in itself was something to wish for about.

Akashi slowly smiled. “A minor god, but, yes, you are correct. Though, I’m not your village’s protector anymore, after that… revolting display of glorification. I let Ryouta take over what was left of Seirin as punishment for escaping his duties with Daiki,” he said. His words were cruel, but the way he said them was strange. It was warm, or so Tetsuya thought.

Tetsuya had no idea who Ryouta and Daiki were, but he didn’t bother asking Akashi that. He had a feeling he would meet the two soon anyway.

“On the other hand, you appear to have done your studies well,” Akashi continued, changing the subject.

The ruler of the divine skies wasn’t actually a minor god, Tetsuya would like to argue, but also chose not to in the end. “It is only necessary that I do. Being the village’s sacrifice required it,” he bluntly replied instead.

The smile on Akashi’s lips immediately turned to a frown. He stared at the bluenette for a moment, as if he were measuring him, before he spoke again. “I would rather you not refer to yourself in such a degrading manner,” he said, his voice cold and authoritative.

Tetsuya blinked, unsure why Akashi was suddenly displeased. “If it is what Lord Akashi requests of me to do so,” he said and bowed his head. “I apologize if my words left you uncomfortable.”

“I do not request this of you, but take it that way if it is what suits you best,” Akashi said. “Also, you were right before. This is one of the manors I owned in the mortal world. Though, it is in a slightly different plane of existence from the real one, so as to serve as protection. I can’t bring you to the palace yet, since you’re still recovering,” he continued, a smile tracing its way back to his lips. “Consider it one of your temporary homes, Tetsuya.”

Tetsuya watched the reflection of the moon on the god’s eyes. Akashi’s eyes were a beautiful shade of red, almost the color of blood but a few shades lighter than that. He wondered if it was natural or if all gods have eyes so full of life. Maybe it was because they had seen a lot––the past, the future, the living, the dead.

Still, the moon stayed true to its color on Akashi’s eyes. Silvery white, bordering colorless. It was colorless, just like Tetsuya.

Tetsuya was confused when he saw Akashi’s eyes twitch. Akashi must’ve read his thoughts again, he thought. He decided to not think any more of that. He lowered his head once more. “You have my gratitude for saving my life, Lord Akashi,” he said, then looked straight into the god’s eyes. “Everything that I am now belongs to you.”

Akashi’s eyes widened, a hint of amusement in them. Soft chuckles went past his lips, which caused Tetsuya to almost glare at the god. “You truly interest me, Tetsuya,” Akashi said. “How could I turn down such a great offer? You wanted to live, but I tell you living is not freedom neither is death. You wanted someone to help you, but you’re too selfless for that. You offer more of yourself and never want anything as payment. I don’t understand you.”

“If anything, it’s Lord Akashi who’s a complete mystery. Why bother helping an irrelevant human like myself?” Tetsuya asked.

“I didn’t exactly help you. I just _claimed_ you, received you. You were offered to the Lord of the East, Tetsuya.” Akashi gestured to himself, and even that looked so majestic.

“You just referred to me as––”

“Oh, forgive me. The situation called for it. It won’t happen a second time,” Akashi said with a look of displeasure, probably to himself.

“Then, I believe it is only right that I repay Lord Akashi’s kindness.”

“You need not do so. I wouldn’t request anything of you. You may stay if you want, leave if you so desire. But for now, just stay here, rest, recuperate.” Akashi quirked an eyebrow. “You might find _our_ world… tiresome.”

“Forgive my insolence, but I insist. I must repay Lord Akashi’s kindness. I have nothing else to give you, but what I am right now. I have… nothing. I am nothing. What I am now is all I can offer.”

Akashi sighed. “I would rather you live the life your heart so desired, Tetsuya, but it seems to me that won’t be possible with the way you are being right now. If you’re so set in throwing your life away, then I suppose I can hold it in my hands for now to prevent you from doing so. However, do remember that it’ll only be for a while.” He sadly smiled as if he could see through Tetsuya.

Maybe, Akashi actually could, Tetsuya thought. Maybe Akashi knew he would die with the curse soon. Maybe Akashi could see his life slowly wither away.

“The ritual left you void, empty of what you once have, of what you once were. If I could break the curse, then I would, but I believe you wouldn’t want that,” Akashi said.

Tetsuya was taken aback by Akashi’s words. “Is it wrong to think that it’s a part of me?” He asked.

Akashi shook his head. “You might find your true strength in your own weaknesses, Tetsuya. It is the way of the world, no matter how cruel that may be. But until you find your way back to your own color, I don’t mind lending you mine.”

The smile Akashi gave him was so tender, so gentle, that Tetsuya felt his heartbeat speed up. It was painful, but also warm at the same time. And he actually liked the feeling it gave him. It was as if something were beginning to form inside of him like a blank canvas about to be spattered with different colors. He nodded, then, without uttering any other words, returned his gaze crescent moon. He could feel Akashi’s eyes on him. He felt conscious, bothered even, but he also felt secured.

When he first saw Akashi, he thought he had finally passed on, he thought he had been graced by a god’s presence––imperious, regal, assuring, peaceful, but also fearsome. At some point, he also thought it was not possible since Akashi appeared human––tangible, clement, and warm.

Tetsuya felt a soft press against his palm. Fingers laced with his. He closed his eyes as warmth transferred to his icy skin through his and Akashi’s joined hands. He traced the red marks on his other palm with his fingers. Akashi was healing him, he could feel it. He could feel the non-existent cuts close themselves. The wound in his soul would take a great time to heal, but it would. Just believing that gave him a nice feeling. He spoke a gratitude to the god in his head.

Akashi just smiled back.

Tetsuya opened his eyes. For a moment, he thought he saw one of Akashi’s irises turn gold, but it immediately returned to its usual red. He shook his head. He must be imagining things. It might have only been caused by the moon’s reflection. When he closed his eyes again, he saw a hurricane of red orange petals flutter around him. He was surrounded in gentle fire.

From a distance, he saw a familiar shadow leaning its back against the trunk of a flame tree in full bloom. Somebody was smiling at him. He walked towards the person, each step faster than the other. Soon, he realized he was running, fiery petals dancing around him.

“Oh, before I forgot, two of this manor’s temporary attendants wanted to meet you. They serve under Daiki, but they somewhat persuaded him to visit my estate when they heard of you,” Akashi said.

Tetsuya just absently nodded, still lost in his own reverie.

Few seconds after that, he reached the flame tree’s shade.

The shadow still remained hidden, despite their close proximity to each other.

Tetsuya cupped his hands on the figure’s face, his thumbs caressing the other’s skin. He was weak. He still had no idea which path to take, but he wouldn’t run away this time. He would deny fate if he had to, and he knew he could. After all, he wasn’t alone anymore.

Red and gold gave life to his own sky blue eyes as he stared at the other. He couldn’t help but smile at his own image reflected on the other’s eyes. He was basked in _that_ beautiful hue and, right now, it was all that mattered.

**Author's Note:**

> I’m so sorry if this was so crappily written. My other ongoing fics are still in the process of rewriting, and I’m just so stressed that I don’t know if I should post the other rewritten chapters or finish the fics first before doing so. And I just wanted to write something different.
> 
> **God, what are priorities even––**
> 
> This was unedited, so I apologize for all the grammatical and spelling errors and all the mistakes I made. ^^
> 
> But I do hope you guys liked it!


End file.
